His Angelina
by Everafterjunkie
Summary: "Fred never got to tell his Angelina, I have a chance to tell mine." In which the teaspoon becomes a tablespoon. Ron/Hermione. Oneshot.


**HIS ANGELINA**

_By Everafterjunkie _

(I own zilch)

* * *

><p>"I wanted to be honest with them!"<p>

Ron could do nothing but sit on the edge of his bed, hands in pockets, looking rather gormless. If he had been in his normal mind he might have comforted her, wrapped two strong arms around her and reassured her that everything would be okay.

He just couldn't will his feet to move.

"I thought if I told them the truth, they'd _understand_. I did it to protect them Ron!" Hermione sniffled into her handkerchief, only just finding the strength to stop her tears from spilling over. "I never thought they'd be disappointed in me."

Feeling too drained, too _exhausted _to even tell her that her parents would be mental for _ever _being disappointed in a daughter who helped save the world, he remained silent, sitting stationary on his bed, his eyes fixed unwaveringly on her.

Stuffing her handkerchief in her trouser pocket, she self-consciously smoothed down her hair under Ron's firm gaze. "...Ron?"

Inwardly sighing, he lightly patted the space next to him, remaining motionless otherwise.

Catching the slight movement, Hermione's eyes swept his bed and immediately took the few steps towards it, letting her legs buckle beneath her. "I love them, Ron. I did it because I love them." Her voice was so weak his ears strained to hear her. "I didn't want them to get hurt."

"They'll get over it." Ron's voice startled her, his eyes remained forward but the statement was loud enough to hear.

Hermione flinched at the harshness of his voice.

"Sorry," he apologised immediately, quietly.

She blinked away the tears that were once again threatening to fall. "I know you have more important things on your mind, Ron. I shouldn't have troubled you with my problems, I'm sorry."

Ron should have told her that she could _always _come to him, that she should _never _be sorry to him. Instead he said nothing.

"Would you like some time alone, Ron?"

Nothing.

Hermione let out a long, tired sigh. At first he'd leaned on her like never before, crying into her shoulder about his brother without a second thought. Hermione would rather it have stayed that way, she _wanted_ him to talk to her, to be able to provide him comfort whenever he needed it. However since his breakdown at the funeral, he'd been so distant, so unlike the Ron she'd known for so long. She got more out of him than anyone else, other than George who he felt had more right to grieve than him, and she was grateful for that, grateful that he always, without fail, permitted her into his room when at times he denied his own parents access. "I should go and see how Harry is feeling..." Hauling herself up, still feeling as shattered and sore as she had for days now, she shuffled her way sluggishly towards his door.

"Stay."

Hermione just about caught the whisper, full of the thick emotion she could tell he'd been keeping inside for days now. Immediately she turned, feeling instant relief that he didn't want her to go, that he perhaps needed her in some way. Watching him fondly, she walked back to him.

Ron was once again patting the bed with the light movement of his right hand, but this time his mouth was not in a hard line and his blue eyes were not empty of emotion. "They love you and they'll get over it, I promise." He murmured softly, making her believe every word.

Hermione wished she could return the sentiment.

Ron reached out, rather tentatively and rested his hand on her left knee, drawing circles. "Do you reckon there's an afterlife?" He asked out of the blue.

Before the War, Hermione might have said no, in fact, she _would_ have said no, even now, after she'd seen so many people around her die, she was still doubtful. However, Ron had barely spoke a word to her these past few days, if shooting him down would discourage him from talking to her, she'd rather humour him. "Possibly." She answered, barely suppressing a shiver at the touch of his hand.

Ron's eyes remained fixated on her knee. "Harry said there was. Well, in a _way _he did, he said he woke up at King's Cross."

Hermione stopped herself from countering his statement and focussed on the fact that Harry _had_ told them that. "That's true." She was so glad he was finally talking again, she felt herself wanting to agree to everything he said for once.

"Do you reckon Fred woke up at King's Cross?" Ron asked quietly, sounding rather hopeful.

Hermione started at the sudden mention of his brother's name, it was like saying it was worse than saying Voldemort at the Burrow. She considered Ron's question carefully. "I think that if Fred had the same choice Harry did ... he'd have chosen to come back to George." She reasoned honestly.

Ron sat silent for a few minutes.

"He never told anyone he loved them you know."

"I'm sure he said it, Ron. He and Fred used to say it all the time ... in a joking way mostly but ... they meant it."

Ron shook his head. "No, not like that. I mean ... you know ... to a _girl_. Angelina told me that he'd never said it to her and she'd never said it to him, that was her biggest regret..." His voice sounded more gravely than usual.

"Oh." Hermione could barely think of anything to say.

"If he did love her and he didn't tell her, he should have." He thought aloud, the circle on Hermione's knee getting larger.

"He probably wanted to wait, Ron."

Ron's hand came to a halt. "He _knew _there was a war going on, he _knew_ what risks there were, he should have _told her_."

"Maybe he showed her instead ... actions speak louder than words sometimes..." Hermione shrugged.

Ron shook his head, frustrated, but continuing to draw circles. "No they don't, because now Angelina is always gonna wonder, isn't she? How will she know how he felt if he never got the balls to tell her?"

Hermione spotted the signs that his temper was rising. "Deep down, she knows, Ron."

"Angelina said they got really close during the war, he used to hold her at night when she was scared." Hermione placed a hand over his, stilling it. She knew he was thinking of the two of them, how'd she been so utterly terrified on their first night on the run that Ron had held her for a good hour or so after Harry had fallen asleep, quietly assuring her that everything would be alright until he'd eventually lain down next to her on the floor, holding her hand until she fell asleep.

Hermione wanted to curse Angelina for even telling Ron such a thing. "She's grieving, Ron, if they were really that close, she _knows_. She's just in need of some reassuring."

"It isn't _fair_." Ron protested. "Why does she never get to know?"

Hermione couldn't work out why he was feeling so sorry for Angelina when he was the one who'd lost his own brother. Lifting her hand, she gently enclosed her fingers around Ron's wrist and encouraged him to continue. "That's the way life goes." Hermione ran her hand up and down his arm. "It's unfair sometimes."

"He had the chance though, why didn't he just get some balls and say it?"

Hermione shrugged, pressing a light kiss to his shoulder. "It wasn't time, Ron."

"What if I'd have been the one to go? If I'd just been a bit to the—"

"Don't." Hermione said firmly.

"I'd have to go to my grave, knowing you were still here, without me, never knowing how I felt..."

Hermione took his face in the palm of her hands and turned it to her. "It _wasn't _you, you're _not _going to your grave Ron, it's over now."

"I could die tomorrow Hermione! All it would take was a rogue Death Eater to find me." Ron reasoned, as if he was trying to figure out the odds for a Quidditch match.

"The Death Eaters who were truly loyal to You-Know-Who died that night, I doubt those who fled would risk their lives by coming after us." Hermione countered.

"There's loads of possibilities for my death though, I don't know how long I have left..." If Ron hadn't have looked so serious while considering this thought, Hermione might have laughed at the absurdity of it all.

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "You are _not _dying Ronald, we need you ... I need you."

"But if I do die—"

"You're not dying Ronald!" Hermione interjected a little more angrily, pulling her hands away from his face.

"—And you're wondering how I did feel when I was with you ... it was kind of like you were the only thing in the room ... like you were surrounded in wand light and all I could see was you ..."

"Please stop talking in past tense, you're not dead, Ron." Hermione completely flushed, looked away in frustration.

Ron sent her an apologetic glance. "It's like ... I need to be the one making you smile, making you laugh, otherwise it feels like I've been punched in the gut... Even if it's Harry doing it." Hermione blushed completely when Ron reached out slowly, caressing a stunned Hermione's cheek. "I think about you all the time." He admitted boldly. "When I thought of you and Krum together, I wanted to be _sick_, I wanted to get you away from him, to tell him to keep his greasy, fat, Bulgarian hands away from you ."

"You don't need to tell me this _now _Ron, we have time." Hermione whispered.

Ron straightened his shoulders. "I _do_, I need to tell you, because if I don't and ... anything happens ... I just need you to know." He insisted. "Fred never got to tell his Angelina, I have a chance to tell mine."

Hermione's lips quirked involuntarily.

"Look Hermione, I know you ... well ... I know you must like me a bit because ... well, you kissed me." Ron's ears turned red. "But I've _never _been sure how you feel, I've always wondered and been too much of a chicken to ask you. I've spent so long just ... being scared of how you feel, whether you like someone else or not, but after what's happened, I'm going to say it even if you don't feel the same way, because I _can_—"

"That's enough Ron." Hermione interrupted sharply. "Stop this now!"

Ron shook his head. "No, Hermione, you need to _listen_!"

"I don't want you saying thing you don't mean Ron," she told him, suddenly very hurt that he thought she didn't feel the same way. "Just because your brother never got to say how he felt, it doesn't mean there's not plenty of time for _us_ to say them." Hermione sighed. "Stop trying to rush us, will you?" She added softly.

Ron looked furious, immediately withdrawing his hand like her knee had burned him. "I'm not _just_ saying them because Fred never said them, I'm saying them because I haven't told you for the last few years and I bloody well should have!"

Hermione remained calm. "Don't raise your voice to me, Ron."

"I'll raise my voice if I bloody well want to! I think I've earned that right!"

"And I haven't?" Hermione questioned quietly. "You're not the only one who's suffering here, Ron."

"You didn't lose your brother though, did you?" She'd never heard his voice so nasty since the night he'd left.

Hermione stood calmly and left Ron's room without another word, knowing that if he'd call her name, she'd turn straight back around and sit with him.

He didn't.

* * *

><p>Hermione didn't leave the Burrow like she secretly wanted to; it wasn't the same loud, cosy, loving place she remembered. There seemed to be more than a hand to Mrs Weasley's clock missing, like an army of Dementors had sucked the souls of every person in the house.<p>

It was quiet.

Fleur, who she'd once envied beyond reason, was now her salvation, the only person in the house who gave her a little consideration too. Hermione did feel pity for Fleur who had spent her newlywed phase in such a dark and twisted time, barely knowing if she and her new husband would live to see the next day. Now the War was over, she was at the Burrow, running around ragged after people who barely gave her thanks instead of spending precious time with her husband whom she thought she'd never see again. Hermione wondered if she ever felt like screaming.

Hermione gave a light knock on Ginny's door before opening it, unsurprised to find Harry sitting quietly in the arm chair and Ginny lying on the covers of her bed.

"How's Ron holding up?" Harry asked into the silence.

Hermione considered the question. "He still feels guilty about what happened at the ..." Hermione glanced to Ginny who was looking stonily out of the window. "About what happened."

"You can say funeral you know, I'm not a child." Ginny snapped.

Hermione started. "I know you're not a child Ginny..."

"You should have let me come with you on the run, but _no_, you wanted to be the exclusive little group you'd always been, always leaving me out."

Hermione had to remind herself what had happened, how Ginny was taking out her grief on her as Harry had been through enough. "You were underage." She replied simply.

"_Sixteen_! One year younger than you!" Ginny argued. "Did you even ask them if I could come?"

"Mrs. Weasley would never have forgiven—"

"_No_! It's not because of my Mum, it's because you wanted Ron and Harry all to yourself! Admit it!"

Hermione's eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me! Deny it." Ginny challenged.

"That's completely absurd, the last thing I'd want is—"

"_I_ wanted you to be safe, Ginny." Harry's voice interjected suddenly, the two females spun around to see Harry rising from his arm chair, his Quidditch magazine falling to the floor. "It wasn't Hermione's choice, it was mine, and if it had been up to me, I'd have gone alone." With that, Harry stormed out of the room and Hermione and Ginny were left, mouths open, at his sudden outburst.

"I'm sorry." Ginny mumbled, burying her face back in her pillow. "He just won't talk to me anymore. I felt like I had to..."

"Vent at someone?" Hermione supplied with a weak smile.

Ginny nodded apologetically. "The only people I can be angry at is you and Fleur."

"If it makes you feel better, you can be angry at me all you like," said Hermione, understandingly.

"It _doesn't _though. It just makes me feel like a right cow. You've been through enough." Ginny let out a shaky breath. "I just miss Fred so much."

Hermione rushed to the bed and pulled Ginny into a hug in an instant.

Ginny sobbed into her shoulder. "I can't talk to anyone about it, Mum barely says a word, Dad just sits there, Ron will only talk to you, Harry's gone through so much ... you have too ... I just feel like my pain is ... insignificant ... you know?"

"You are at perfect liberty to be upset." Hermione insisted, hugging her closest female friend.

Ginny cried into her shoulder, letting go like she'd never seen her let go before. "Nothing's ... ever gonna be ... the same..." She sobbed.

"It will get better." Hermione soothed. "I promise it will."

"Everything alright Ginerva?" Percy was peeking his head through the door, looking worriedly at his little sister.

Ginny suppressed a scowl. "Yes, fine, as you can see." She wiped away a few tears.

Percy left the room, his head bowed.

"You shouldn't be so hard on him." Hermione told her softly.

Ginny sniffled. "He thinks he's the hero after he came back right at the _end_ of the War. He has a bit of making up to do yet."

"Talking of making up, I better go and see your brother."

Ginny looked to her with surprised eyes. "You and Ron fought?"

Hermione nodded guiltily.

"At least something's back to normal."

* * *

><p>Hermione had been lightly rapping her knuckles on the familiar wooden door for a good half minute, only to be met with silence. Her heart lurched. He'd <em>always <em>permitted her into his room.

"Ron?" She whispered through the door.

No response.

"_Ron_, please let me in." She continued knocking, almost robotically. "Please."

She could feel her eyes starting to swim with the tears she hadn't let fall since Fred's funeral. "Ron, I'm _sorry_, please open the door."

Nothing.

She'd been the only one he'd never failed to admit into his room and she crumbled at the thought of that changing. Feeling the tears begin to fall, she collapsed to her knees, for once not fighting the walls that seemed to be closing in.

"Hermione?"

Stopping her sobbing momentarily, she looked up to see Ron standing there, hands in his pockets, looking rather helpless. "Ron." She croaked, surprised.

He was not standing in his doorway like she'd expected, instead he was standing right in front of her. "Come on, let's get you inside." Allowing him to pull her up by the arms, he put a strong arm around her, opened his door and led her back to his bed, sitting down next to her. Hermione sniffled, feeling rather foolish. "You alright?"

Hermione nodded, avoiding his eyes. "I'm fine. Where were you?" she asked quietly.

Ron shook his head, wiping his hands on his trousers. "I just went to get something to eat. Bit unfair on Fleur that she has to keep bringing food upstairs."

Hermione smiled through tears. "You went downstairs."

Ron nodded. "You were right. I was being stupid."

"I_ never_ said you were stupid, Ron." Hermione insisted. "I never _will_."

"You're right, you never have." His blue eyes conveyed he felt rather gleeful at that fact, well, gleeful considering the circumstances. "Sorry I wasn't there to answer the door." He added as a guilty afterthought.

Hermione shook her head, rubbing her eyes. "_No_! Don't be sorry. I'm glad you left your room. I'm glad you're finally talking again."

Ron chuckled and Hermione delighted in the sound.

"I haven't heard you laugh since..." Hermione trailed off, looking apologetic.

Ron boldly placed his arm around her and shuffled so they were sitting hip to hip. "Sorry about before." Ron scratched his head guiltily with the hand that wasn't stroking Hermione's arm. "I was out of order."

Hermione melted into him. "You have _nothing _to be sorry for ... It's my fault ... I was the one who sent them to Australia."

"Because you're _brilliant._" Ron insisted. "You didn't want them to get hurt ... and they didn't."

Hermione nodded miserably at his statement. "I know they didn't get hurt in a physical sense but ..." she sighed. "I hope they can forgive me for wiping their memories. They look at me like I'm a monster—"

"You can be a bit scary." Ron interjected lightly, trying his best to force a smile.

Hermione gave a small smile for his efforts. "I don't think they trust me anymore, Ron."

"I trust you. Harry trusts you. Ginny trusts you. There's plenty of people who trust you." Ron objected weakly.

Hermione sighed. "How would you feel if you're parents looked at you like ... like they wished you weren't theirs?"

Ron swallowed. "I used to think ... that maybe ..." Ron let out a deep breath. "I used to think my Mum wished Harry was her son and not me..."

"How could you think that?" Hermione asked incredulously. "Your Mum _idolises _you."

"I see that now." Ron admitted. "Harry's just so ... heroic."

"So are you." Hermione reminded him forcefully.

Ron shrugged. "I'm just the sidekick."

"You're not to _me_." Hermione said quietly, turning her face just so her lips brushed his neck, he instantly snuggled even closer, stroking her hair.

"You had me worried when you left here before ... I thought you might ... Apparate home..." Ron admitted. "I went to ask Fleur if you'd left ... you and her seem to be getting closer lately."

"You have so many more important things to worry about Ron, don't worry about me." Hermione said softly. "I was being unreasonable for even wanting you to."

"You? Unreasonable? Never!" The smile Ron gave her did something funny to her insides.

"I've been known to be unreasonable before..." Hermione protested.

Ron shook his head. "I'm the unreasonable one, not you."

Hermione grinned. "Ignoring you for months just because you got a girlfriend ... I'd say that's pretty unreasonable."

Ron looked rather smug at this. "Only when you're jealous then?" Ron asked rather hopefully.

Hermione gave an uncharacteristic girly laugh. "Perhaps."

"I'll take that as a yes then." Ron beamed and for a moment, all the stress left his face.

Hermione saw this as she watched him closely. Her own mouth mirrored his dazzling smile and she'd admit nearly anything to him in that second to make him forget about the past few weeks for a moment or two. "I actually considered drinking Polyjuice Potion to become her at one point." She confessed, looking completely embarrassed as soon as the words had left her mouth.

Ron's smile grew. "Seriously?"

Hermione couldn't _believe _she'd just said that. "...Yes."

"Wicked." Ron's radiant smile said it all and Hermione could not regret saying anything that made him so happy.

"You'll let me live that down, won't you?" Hermione asked, not the slightest bit annoyed he'd probably mention it everyday.

Ron shook his head. "No bloody way! That is blackmail material."

She scowled.

"Only pulling your leg." Ron smiled again and Hermione instantly felt the scowl become forgotten.

"You can pull my leg anytime you like if it makes you happy."

Hermione cringed as soon as she'd heard herself say it.

"Can I really?" Ron asked teasingly, gripping her knee and pulling it playfully.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean."

Ron leaned in slowly, pressing a kiss to her hair. "Thank you."

Hermione turned her head, looking at him tenderly. "For what?" she whispered softly.

"For putting up with me. I know it's not easy ... with your parents and things ... but you come here every single day ... you look after me and stuff ... I appreciate it."

Hermione looked bemused. "You make it sound like I don't _want _to be here."

Ron shrugged. "I haven't exactly been the best company lately, have I?" Still stroking her hair, getting his fingers tangled occasionally, he kept his eyes focussed on her, almost as if she'd leave any second.

Hermione laid a hand on his chest and swivelled herself around so her legs were stretched over his thighs and her feet rested on his bed, she revelled in being so close to him. "I don't mind."

Ron supported her with an arm around her back as she looped her arms around his neck. "I think you're the most _wonderful_ person I've ever met." Hermione emphasised the word _wonderful_ rather strongly.

"What about Harry?" He couldn't help himself ask.

Hermione shook her head in amusement. "I think you're the most wonderful person I've ever met." Hermione repeated.

"Even more wonderful than Krum?" Ron asked optimistically.

Hermione nodded emphatically. "Do you think _he _would have thought of the Chamber of Secrets to destroy horcruxes? Do you think he'd have risked his life for me in Malfoy Manor? That he would drink Polyjuice and transform himself into his sought after friend when Death Eaters lined the sky?"

"You did that bit too." Ron replied modestly.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Do you think _he _would sacrifice himself in a game of Wizard Chess for his friends? Do you think I want _him_?"

Ron smirked arrogantly. "No, probably not."

"He may be a famous Quidditch player and all that other stuff most girls my age want ... but I'd _much_ rather watch _you_ play." Hermione smiled into his neck. "When are you going to understand that I only said yes because I thought you would never ask me?"

Ron positively beamed. "Really?"

"_Yes_." A frustrated Hermione replied. "I wish you'd stop comparing yourself to other people ... they should be comparing themselves to _you_."

Ron opened his mouth to speak but a knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. Fearing it was Mrs. Weasley, Hermione shuffled out of Ron's lap, sitting herself a good distance away on the bed. Ron didn't seem to be too happy about that fact. "What?" He barked.

"_Ron_." Hermione chided quietly. "Come in!" She called out to the door.

"Alright you two?" Harry asked as he strolled in, taking a seat next to Hermione on Ron's bed.

Hermione's brown eyes cast over him, worriedly. "Have you spoken to Ginny?"

"Not much point, is there?" Shrugged Harry. "I'm always gonna be the one her brother died for." Harry winced when Ron flinched. "Sorry mate."

"It's alright." Ron replied maturely. "How you feeling?"

"Guilty."

Hermione placed an arm around him and embraced him. "You have _nothing _to feel guilty about. Everything that happened, everyone who died ... It was because of Voldemort."

Ron stood, his hands fisting in his pockets, he made his way over to his best friend, pulling a hand out to pat his friend on the back. "No one blames you mate."

"I blame me."

Hermione shook her head. "You always blame yourself, Harry. If Tom Riddle had never been born, do you think any of this would have happened?"

Harry looked apprehensive to say no.

"Exactly! So it's not your fault." Hermione finished, looking at him desperately for some kind of sign that he understood. "Ginny needs you Harry. I know you feel like you're the one to blame for all this Harry, but you're not, She feels like she has no one to talk to anymore."

Harry grimaced. "I don't want to make her feel like that ... she just ... she doesn't understand that ... only you two will _ever_ understand what happened."

Hermione squeezed his hand. "She can't understand if you don't tell her, Harry."

Motioning for the two to shuffle further up the bed, Ron sat himself on the end and threw and arm around Harry, his hand seeking out Hermione's shoulder to rub it. "You can talk to us mate."

Harry smiled for the first time in a long time. "I know." He said softly, allowing himself comfort between his two friends. "You'll never know how much you two coming with me meant. I couldn't have done it without you both."

Ron and Hermione exchanged tender glances.

Harry watched them with a fond smile. "So ... have you two got it on yet?" Harry asked, glancing between the two of them. "You have one sloppy kiss that lasts about half an hour—"

"It was not half an hour!"

"It was not sloppy!"

Ron and Hermione protested simultaneously.

Ron's ears were pink. "It was more like ... five?" Ron grinned and the three of them laughed.

Hermione, still laughing, looked to her two best friends. "You really thought it was sloppy?" she asked Harry, look a little self-conscious.

Harry nodded emphatically, laughing almost hysterically for the first time in what seemed like a life time. "You practically pounced on him!" Harry snorted he was laughing so much.

"I wasn't complaining!" Ron held up his hands and the trio burst into another round of sniggers.

Eventually the laugher subsided and the three of them looked affectionately to each other, staying in their close embrace, Hermione and Ron both extremely glad that Harry was in the middle of them for their first proper conversation they'd had about the kiss.

"Has he asked you out then yet?" He turned to Hermione, wearing a smile that was not completely reaching his eyes anymore.

Hermione's face flushed pink. "Harry!"

Harry rolled his eyes and turned back to Ron. "Have you even _kissed_ since then?" He asked his best friend incredulously.

Ron looked rather ashamed. "I've had some other things on my mind..." His head was bowed, his eyes sad.

Harry immediately grimaced. "Bloody hell Ron, I'm sorry. It's none of my business."

Ron withdrew his arm from around his best friend and shrugged, his right leg half off the bed. "It's alright."

"It's _not_. I was acting like nothing had happened when it has ... Fred's gone and I'm _so _sorry, Ron. If I could, I'd put myself in his place, honestly I would."

Ron's brow furrowed. "That wouldn't make it better mate. You're just as much my brother as Fred was, Harry."

Harry looked touched. "You too, mate. You too."

"Fred knew what he was getting into, he knew the risks." Ron told his two best friends as much as himself. "He didn't deserve to die ... but he did ... we need to help George through this ... that's what's important."

Hermione gave a glowing smile. "I'm so proud of you, Ron." Reaching over Harry, she squeezed Ron's knee, he smiled back at her, looking at her so _affectionately_ that Harry felt queasy.

"Get a room!" Harry complained.

"This _is_ my room!" Ron protested good naturedly. "If you don't like it, go feel up my sister or something."

Harry smirked. "Wow, you must _really _want to get rid of me."

"Joking aside Harry, you really need to sort things out with Ginny." Hermione threw in softly, rubbing his arm. "She's very emotional at the moment."

"That's the polite way of saying what Ron said." Harry pointed out.

Hermione blushed, unable to look her friends in the eye. "Shut up, Harry."

Harry threw his arms around his two friends and squeezed them close. "Now, don't get _too _carried away when I leave..."

"_Shut up Harry_!" Both Ron and Hermione muttered simultaneously into his chest.

He affectionately ruffled both of their hair, then stood, brushing himself off he smiled gratefully. "I'm going to go sort things out with Ginny. I need to stop being such a selfish arse, right?"

"Right!" They affirmed together.

"I need to go and see Teddy right after!"

"Right!" Both affirmed again.

"And _most_ of all I need to get out of here so you two can snog each other rotten!"

"Ri—" Ron stopped straight away when Hermione blushed and failed to say _right_ to that.

"Good luck kids." Harry winked, then strolled through the door, closing it behind him.

Ron and Hermione sat in silence on his bed, a good half metre from each other.

"I think we cheered him up." Hermione noted conversationally.

Ron scratched his head. "We did ... yeah."

Another long stretch of silence.

"Perhaps I should see if Fleur needs any help cooking dinner before I go home..." Hermione pushed herself up from Ron's bed and pulling her woolly down nervously from where it had ridden up, she stood before him, anxiously.

"Alright." Ron agreed, his hands beginning to feel rather sweaty.

Hermione daringly took a step forward and threw herself into his arms, wrapping her arms tightly around her neck, burying her face in the crook of his neck. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, Ron." Pulling away, she placed a gentle kiss to his forehead and smiled fondly at him before she turned on her heel and headed for the door.

Momentarily panic-stricken Ron jumped up from the bed and bounded over to her. "Wait!"

Hermione spun around, her breathing erratic to see him standing so close, his lips inches from hers. "Ginny says I'm a wuss." Ron said out of nowhere, leaning on the door with one hand.

Hermione frowned, stood between Ron and the door. "You're anything but a _wuss_ Ron..."

Ron smiled. "No ... not like that! She says that I should have kissed _you _first. Not the other way around. I'm a wuss for not doing it first." Ron explained.

Hermione felt her pulse quicken as he leaned forward with an achingly slow pace.

"I'm not much of a gentlemen am I?" Ron murmured, the back of his hand reaching out to touch her face. "Can I kiss you?" He whispered, gazing straight into her eyes. "Please." He added, letting his hand wander into the thick of her hair.

"Of c-course you can Ron..." Hermione whispered rather shakily.

Taking a deep breath, he willed himself forward the last inch, using the hand in her hair to guide her into a considerably gentle kiss. Hermione felt herself melt against him, feeling a jolt of realisation that Ron Weasley had kissed her _first_. That he wasn't just responding because he wanted to make her feel better. That he wasn't just responding because he was a _bloke_ and that's what blokes do. His lips worked tenderly against hers and Hermione returned the pressure eagerly.

Their first kiss had been all passion, heat of the moment and _Oh buggar looks like we're going to die ... may as well make the most of it_, but this was something else entirely. It was sweet and gentle and he was so careful with her, like he might break her if he pressed too hard. Allowing herself to wrap her arms around his neck and pull him closer, she smiled against his lips, not being able to resist grabbing two fistfuls of his silky hair. When he gently sucked her lip into his mouth, her stomach swooped and she grabbed his hair even more tightly with both hands. He tentatively ran his tongue along her lip and she opened her mouth instantly, allowing his tongue to slide leisurely against hers, discovering her mouth enthusiastically, causing Hermione to jerk in response. Slowly retreating from her mouth, he pressed a gentle peck to her lips before pulling back slightly so their noses were still touching.

"Are you alright?" Ron asked, looking rather smugly at the panting Hermione.

"...Yes..." She replied breathlessly, letting go of her tight grip on his hair with an embarrassed smile, leaving her arms linked around his neck. "...Are y-you?"

"More than alright, pretty fantastic actually." Ron grinned and Hermione felt her feet propel her forwards and capture his lips in another quick kiss. "Make that fantastic." He corrected himself.

"I love being able to do that." Hermione confessed running a thumb over his lips.

Ron suddenly stiffened. "I'd love to ... to ... to say that ... I'd love it if you ... would be ... um... uh..."

"Just say it Ron." Hermione willed him to say it, her brown eyes eager.

"I'd love to say ..." Ron cleared his throat. "That you're my ... my ... thatyou'remygirlfriend." Ron rushed out lamely, blushing furiously.

Hermione burst into laughter.

Ron dropped his hand from her hair, dejected.

Hermione wiped a tear from her eye and forced herself to stop laughing. "I'd love to be your girlfriend Ronald."

Ron still looked confused as he smiled. "What's so funny?"

Hermione shook her head, still experiencing bursts of laughter. "_I'm_ your girlfriend! Me! Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger... boyfriend and girlfriend!"

"Do you not want to be?" Ron asked, puzzled.

"Do you want the Cannons to lose the cup?" Hermione threw back, still grinning. "Don't be ridiculous!"

"Then ..."

"I just bloody love you Ronald Weasley." She declared almost manically.

Ron's eyebrows rose. "I thought you told me not to rush us..."

"I'm not rushing." Hermione laughed again. "I said it because it felt like the right time."

"Oh." Ron's ears were pink as he held her hand in his. "I ... um ... feel the same way."

Hermione smiled, capturing his lips once again. "That'll do for now." She murmured against her lips.

"I think I've took enough steps in our relationship today _girlfriend_." Ron teased her, pulling her back in for another soaring kiss. "Next stop, your parents house."

Hermione studied him carefully. "Are you sure you're ready for that, Ron?" He'd been up in his room for days on end now.

Ron shrugged. "Fred wouldn't want me holed up in here being miserable, would he? He'd want me to be happy ... and I am ... with you." Hermione grinned. "Now ... we need to help your parents learn to trust you again ... I can't have you being upset every time you come to see me."

Despite Hermione insisting he wait a few days and actually venture through his own house before coming to hers, Ron _insisted_ that he was coming with her no matter what. He witnessed first hand for himself why she'd been so upset earlier on that day; their flinch when Hermione took a step forward, when she opened her mouth to speak, when she held her wand. They barely spoke a word to either of them.

It took time.

Time for them to learn she only cast the spell to protect them, that she'd _never_ hurt them, to understand that their little girl had helped save the world. Of course they'd been insecure, thinking that she didn't need them anymore, that she'd lasted a year without them and she'd grown up in that short space of time but Ron did his best to assure them that it wasn't the case, that he had been through the exact same thing and needed his parents now more than ever. Together, Ron and Hermione convinced her parents she was still _their_ Hermione.

They leaned on each other.

* * *

><p>Twenty years on they'd stand, together, with their two adoring children, with Hermione's Muggle parents, with George Weasley gripping his youngest son Fred, with the whole Weasley and Potter family, holding onto each other, lighting their wands as a sign of respect to the Wizard they'd never forget, the Wizard whose memorial statue stood tall in the centre of Diagon Alley like a true hero.<p>

"See you next time Fred." Ron whispered to the grave, holding his bushy-haired wife tightly and trying hard not to crumble like he usually did.

They'd get each other through.

They always did.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN:<strong>_ My first Ron/Hermione fic in a long time! Written mainly because I'm upset about it being over! :P Weren't they just adorable in the film? :) "Not my girlfriend you numpty!" was _epic_. Thanks for reading :D

Please review! :)


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